


The Silence After

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:12:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Then the Elves smote upon the gates of Angband, and the challenge of their trumpets shook the towers of Thangorodrim; and Maedhros heard them amid his torment and cried aloud, but his voice was lost in the echoes of the stone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silence After

At first he thought he was dreaming when he heard the sounds of trumpets at the gates. 

He  _knew_  that sound. 

_Uncle?_

_Findekáno…?_

He screamed, crying out in wordless desperation until his lungs and throat burned and his voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper. He struck the manacle on his wrist against the face of the cliff, every impact sending a blinding jolt of pain through him, until he blacked out in agony. When he came to a moment later, he did it again. 

Afterwards there was only silence.

They were gone, he knew, with a heavy certainty. Suddenly he felt tears on his face, tracing wet paths down his windburned, sunburned cheeks and cracked lips. He shouted out once more, in frustration, striking his wrist against the cliff face once more before dropping his head, hair falling over his face. 

Sometimes, early on, he had tried to pull his hand from out of the manacle. At least then, he thought, he would fall to a quick death far below, his body broken on the rocks in mere moments. Even if his spirit was doomed to the everlasting darkness, it must surely be better than this. 

He had given up trying that long ago; Morgoth would not let him go that easily. 

He tried once more now, tugging desperately at his wrist with his weak fingers.

He let out a sound that was half a sob and half a broken, painful laugh when he realised how little difference it made. 


End file.
